Page 44 of Chasing After You
It always kept things interesting, the slight changes we went through while we were apart. No matter how deeply we knew each other or how familiar we felt, there were always new surprises coming along to keep us on our toes.
Nessa’s love for coffee was no different.
Back then, she wasn’t off dairy yet, and I remember the first thing that tipped me off to her new habit was a carton of half and half sitting on the shelf in the refrigerator door.
I’ve been drinking coffee since I was twelve and my grandfather invited me to my first cup over the Sunday funnies. But I drink it the way my grandfather did. Black with a healthy drizzle of maple syrup.
So, the half and half wasn’t mine.
“Is it weird that I still think it’s sweet you taste my coffee to make sure it’s perfect before you hand it to me?” she asks after we’ve both been quiet for a while. Her sipping her java and me, well, reminiscing, mostly, though I have a cup of coffee in my hand as well. So far, it’s been mostly for show.
I don’t think I’ve even tried it yet. I was too preoccupied with getting hers right and delivering it before she could get her own, or worse, Oliver could do it for her.
“I don’t think it’s weird.” I tilt my head so I’m closer to her, “but then some people might think it’s weird that I do that to begin with.”
“Those people wouldn’t know what the hell they’re talking about.”
“No?”
“No.” She shakes her head, wrapping both hands around her paper cup, letting it hover just below her mouth. “You know what I thought the first time you did it?That’s the most romantic damn thing that man has ever done.” She smiles. “And then you kept on doing it. And it became this romantic ritual, this love in motion I got to experience over and over.”
I chuckle softly. “You’re giving me more credit than I deserve. It was purely on impulse. An act of desperation even. I took one glance at our mug collection, all in random shapes and sizes, received your freeform recipe of two sugars and a spill of cream, and knew I had exactly zero shots at getting it right if I everwanted to provide the simple, standard gesture, of fixing my wife a cup of coffee.” I shake my head remembering that morning. “But then I saw you take a drink of the cup you’d just fixed. You were in a state of pure bliss.” I smile just remembering. “Perfect,” I mimic her contented sigh. “And it hit me, if I knew what perfect tasted like, the size of the cup would never matter.”
“And people always think you’re just a pretty face with great hair and slammin’ bass skills.”
I laugh. “I do have pretty great hair.”
“Excuse me, Mister Benning?”
I turn around at the sound of my name, expecting another fan hoping for a selfie together. Then I recognize her.
“Renee, I told you to call me Matti,” I remind the young woman who was kind enough to hook me up with a place to stay here on a moment’s notice.
“Of course.” She bites her lip nervously before she gives my first name a real try. “Matti.”
“Much better.” I swing slightly sideways toward Nessa. “Renee, have you met Nessa?”
Her eyes grow larger and it’s pretty clear, she’s aware I’m about to introduce her to my ex-wife. Then her delight turns to apologies. “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even recognize you when I checked you in,” she scrambles her way through the words.
Nessa just laughs it off. “Believe it or not, that’s actually how I prefer it.” She extends her right hand. “But it’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Renee.”
Renee returns the gesture, beaming again. “The pleasure is all mine.” Then her expression morphs again. “I almost forgot why I came over here.” She shakes her head, amused at herself. “I meant to thank you. Not everyone in your position would have bothered to follow through on the promise you made me yesterday about meeting the whole band. I just wanted you toknow how much I appreciated it. Music is such an incredible gift you all give to the world, and I can personally attest to the impact it makes on a person.” She places both hands over her heart and bows ever so slightly. “So, thank you. Truly, this meant more to me than you can imagine.”
“Renee, believe it or not, we’re probably about even in terms of what we’ve given each other just by showing up to do our jobs.”
She smiles, but confusion crinkles the corners of her eyes. “I don’t see how.”
“Hm, I’m starting to think I might though,” Ness mutters, a curious glean flashing in her eyes even as she narrows them to look at me.
Before she can say anything else on the matter, Oliver shows up again. Where I came with coffee, he has brought an offering of Danishes and muffins. Judging by the pile of them on his plate, he brought enough to feed everyone in Nessa’s family.
“The muffins are vegan,” he announces as soon as he’s in hearing distance. “I made sure to ask.” He grins at her. Then at me. Like he knows he just scored points to offset my coffee gesture. “Everyone else still mingling?” he asks, stepping deeper into our huddle.
“Apparently.” Ness dives right into the stack of pastries he holds her way. “You didn’t see them hanging around the coffee and sweets?”
He shakes his head and
then moves to extend the plate of breakfast cakes in my direction. He stops short. “Oh, hello.” The pastries stay at an awkward length between us. Too close to me to be ignored, too far to assume I’m meant to partake.
